Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belongs to J. K. Rowling

Part 3/Chapter 17:

Victor was more and more pleased with the performance over jumps of both Storm and Sparks. Nearly every time, Victor would set the jumps much higher, and John would give the horses some practice with the more demanding obstacles. His head buzzed now and then, but he tried to hide the sinister sign, only once betraying himself by falling off Storm.

Monday, 11th January, he was back at the Ministry, doing a full list of patients. There were more home-grown patients. "New Year's Eve casualties," remarked Bryce. "The same every year." Again, John thought that it seemed a bit boring, but reminded himself that ordinary magic no longer brought a penalty of pain. He'd come a long way in a year.

Alison was back from the Christmas break, turning up for work regularly every morning. She was showing her pregnancy now, and was making preparations. She didn't want to work too hard after her baby arrived, and was reorganising some of Bellamy's investments and preparing some essential paperwork early. Ursula helped by doing the correspondence.

John was no longer attempting to use glasses, even for very short intervals. His independent eyesight was too poor again even to warrant the attempt.

"There's an agricultural show at the end of the month," Alison remarked to the boss. "Cec is showing some sheep."

Ursula put another letter in a pile, and said, "I heard Oliver begging Victor to let him and Steve take their new horses."

John looked up, interested. He enjoyed shows, but he mustn't be irresponsible.

Ursula showed a letter to Alison. "Do we get many of these?"

Alison laughed, "Now and then. It runs in fashions. There's a form letter."

"What is it?" asked John curiously. The women looked at each other, and then Ursula said, "Do you want me to read it to you?"

John nodded.

Ursula put on a mock solemn voice. "My name is Cecily, and I'm sixteen. I'm blonde, and my friends all say I'm pretty. I'm sorry, but I get pimples sometimes, but Jenny says you probably won't mind that." John was looking puzzled. "I think you're so wonderful, and really goodlooking as well, though they say you've got a lot of scars on your body, but I don't mind that. Lots of boys would like to be my boyfriend, but I've saved myself for you. I want you to be my first lover, and Jenny says that all men like young girls, so you'll probably say yes." Ursula glanced at the boss, who'd turned scarlet. "She winds up by suggesting a time and date."

John opened and closed his mouth a few times, and then started to laugh, helplessly. Eventually, tears in his eyes, he choked out, "Does she know I'm married?"

Alison was laughing, too. It was so good to see the boss laugh like that. She shook her head. "These girls, they never seem to give it a thought!"

John said, "So how do you answer?"

Alison went to a drawer, and read out a courteous reply that thanked the girl for the offer, pointed out that he was a married man, and said that he wasn't interested in young girls in any case.

John nodded and rose to leave. "Well, that's about right for now," he said casually. "If I decide to take one up on the offer, I'll let you know."

He strolled out, leaving Ursula and Alison looking at each other. "Do you think he was serious?" finally asked Ursula.

Alison shook her head. "He wouldn't," but she looked doubtful.

John was pleased with himself. He seldom managed to take his staff off balance like that.

Silly Cecily's offer was something to think about. He was so famous in the wizarding world, and he found it difficult to comprehend that a young girl would think to make such an offer for no other reason than his fame. He chuckled. He had lots of scars, but she didn't mind. He told Pat, laughing again over the letter. Pat knew it happened now and then. As Alison said, it seemed to be a fashion sometimes. But she laughed with him, as if she'd never heard of such a thing.

In Italy, Najia did a fair number of patients, and Zoe could do nearly all that she failed, either with her greater power or using the telepathic cure. But after she was nearly strangled, she simply referred any like that to Bellamy, who did it so much better than she did. They were coping with the European demand, all but those few.

John was curing around fifty patients a week now, almost all without effort. Most were from Asia, some from Arabia, quite a few from America, and an occasional one from Southern Africa or Australasia. His fame was world wide.

Since New Year's Eve, he was no longer interested in socialising. "I'm being a coward again," he told Pat, perfectly honestly. If only he could hold onto some dignity when the pain struck, but it seemed he could not. He didn't want so many people to see him like that ever again.

Pat understood, but wasn't sure that she agreed. Her husband should not make himself a recluse.

John didn't say that he was going to the agricultural show, he didn't even ask whether he could go, but Pat knew he wanted to. Except for work, he hadn't even been off the property since New Year's Eve. He thought he was being responsible, trying not to make work for everyone.

Victor consulted Pat, and Pat consulted Paul. Paul said it was time they showed a few of their Andalusians in any case, and appearing at a show was often an easy way of making a sale. Pat notified Dieter of their plans. He should know, and maybe he'd think it appropriate to provide a bodyguard or two, who could apparate home with him, if needed. Better than having to take the panel van out seventy miles if it wasn't needed.

Shane and Kay Barton were discernibly hesitant when it was suggested that Bellamy go in their car, though they felt guilty about it. Bellamy and his household had done so much for Steve, but the last time he'd been too obviously sickly, and they knew he could collapse without warning. So it was decided that Bellamy would go with Victor, and Steve and Oliver would go with the Bartons.

When it was all decided, Pat told him that Victor wanted him at the show to help with the three horses they were taking, and to help look after the boys. John looked at her, and then hugged her and thanked her. They took so much trouble for him.

Pat smiled. She hadn't fooled him for a moment.

The day was fine, Sparks and Maguire were loaded into the horsebox, John climbed into the front seat next to Victor, and Trey leapt up as well. Oliver rode in the back for the short trip to Steve's place, and then Storm joined the other horses in the large horsebox, while Oliver and Steve laughed and chattered excitedly. They each had schedules in their hands, and planned to enter almost everything they were eligible for, though Victor warned Steve not to expect the judges to award show prizes to Storm. "Great horse, but they can't see past their noses, sometimes."

Everyone was busy, even Paul, who had Marcus and two employees with him, to show the four two-year-olds he'd brought. There were always enquiries, and before they'd been there an hour, he was bargaining a price for one of the fillies, though the actual change of hands would take place the following week.

But Cec and Alison came to collect the boss, and stayed with him as they walked and explored. He admired Cec's sheep, some of them already with broad ribbons draped over the sides of their pens, and said hello to Bob Barton, who was also showing sheep. After doing the circuit, they watched from the side of the arena for a while, as the carefully coached boys cantered around in a show class. The horse that Kay called Thowra and had wanted to buy, was there, and was awarded the win, although Sparks came second. Storm was nowhere.

John was happy, his eyes sparkling, ready to laugh and joke. He spent money on novelty toys that were quite useless, and fairy floss, even managing to persuade Alison to have some too. Cec refused, although enjoying the delight of poor young Mr. Bellamy, who wasn't long for this world. His wife said that was nonsense, but that was only because she doted on her boss.

John looked longingly at some of the rides, but had the sense not to go on any. How would it be if he collapsed in the middle of a ride on the Jumping Jellybean?

Returning to the horsebox, John found some considerable confusion, as the boys tried to go into events in two different areas, on different horses, and scheduled at the same time. But even so, Maguire won a bending race, an apple-in-bucket race, and other novelty events, with Oliver and Steve alternating, each very happy to take credit for being the passenger. Maguire was beginning to carry a lot of ribbons on his browband, and looked very pleased with himself.

Neither of the boys were placed in best rider events, but they were both very hopeful when it came to the junior showjumping. This was what they'd been practising for hardest, and John and Victor made sure to watch. Victor pointed, and John saw because he saw. It was that horse that Kay called Thowra. He wore another rosette now, another step toward a Championship in the showing.

"We'll see how he does in the showjumping against our Storm," remarked Victor, with satisfaction.

"He's not a bad horse, and the jumps are very low," said John. "I think it mostly depends on the rider, this time."

"Pity you won't ride." He glanced at the boss's puzzled face. "You've always said it's not quite fair for older witches and wizards to compete on equal terms with medj, though there's no magic involved in riding a horse. That's why the Bournes gave it up, and Susan, too."

John nodded. That made sense, and he said, "It would be a temptation, I think, just to make sure that a teetering pole doesn't quite fall, or maybe, that an opposing horse starts to buck instead of behaving itself. Better not to compete."

Victor nodded. He'd said it before, in almost the same words, though, of course he wouldn't remember. He glanced at the boss. Mostly, it was like nothing had happened. But then he said or did something that made you remember that it had.

"Sparks is up next," Victor said, and they watched as the solemn boy on his glossy black mare, jumped neatly around the course without an error. "I was telling him about his grandfather," said Victor. "Simon Barnes, who won a Bronze once at the Olympics."

John pretended he'd known. Victor wasn't fooled.

"There was Connor Maguire, a friend of Adrian's, too. He was also on one of your horses, I heard, and he won gold the same year."

John remarked with satisfaction, "They're good horses."

"Here comes Storm!" Storm was obviously excited and jumped unnecessarily high over each obstacle, making it difficult for Steve to stay on. But his round, too, was clear. There was a succession then, of refusals, runouts, and jumps knocked flying. The palomino jumped as neat a clear round as Sparks.

Victor nodded in spite of himself. "The girl's a good little rider."

Five in the jumpoff, and the jumps were raised. Victor frowned. "They're putting them up rather high for this age group."

Shane and Kay Barton joined them. "He's doing so well!" exclaimed Kay. "To think that he'd never sat on a horse until a few months ago!"

Victor said, "Did you notice the palomino you wanted to buy?"

Kay said, "He won a show class."

"So he did."

Sparks was ridden in, her ears flicking back and forth, curvetting a little when Oliver asked her to trot. Neatly, carefully, the little mare took the course. Oliver gave a broad smile of triumph, but missed going through the Finish, and his disqualification was loudly announced over the loudspeaker. Victor swore, and then apologised. Kay asked, frowning, "What did he do wrong?" Victor explained, which was an illumination to John, as well.

The next rider knocked over two jumps, and then Steve rode in on Storm again. Storm was prancing, still very excited. He jumped higher than ever, taking the obstacles with feet to spare, and nearly hurtling Steve out of the saddle each time. But he was clear, Steve was still on top, and steered his excited mount through the Finish without incident.

'Thowra' followed, but knocked over a fence. The last horse thought the jump was too high, refused three times, and his rider looked furious.

Steve was first, on Storm, beating 'Thowra' into second. Steve's freckled face didn't seem quite big enough for his grin as he accepted a trophy cup.

Oliver was pleased for him, although he looked rather apprehensively at Victor. But Victor just clapped him on the shoulder, and said that everyone did it at least once. Oliver breathed a sigh of relief, and said eagerly, "She was great, though, wasn't she? She felt like she could just go on forever, not leaping the moon, like Storm, just popping over them, as high as needed."

The triumph and excited talk was such that John's silence as he paled and gripped the fence, went unnoticed by his companions. He had a trembling attack afterward, but he'd always done that now and then, and only the Bartons took any notice.

An inconspicuous auror, hovering not far away, noticed, and John suddenly looked straight back at him, and then around, spotting a second one. But it had taken half the day, and when Dieter looked at the report on Monday, he reflected that even now, Bellamy would be almost helpless against a determined assassination attempt. He was still having dizzy spells, too, though, to his knowledge, there'd been no attacks of pain since New Year's Eve.

Steve was happy enough that he declined the use of Maguire for the last few events. These were open events, and Oliver was against some determined and experienced riders. Maguire was feeling his age a touch, and after barely winning another bending race, he was drooping his head, and Victor said, No more.

Oliver petted the game little horse, and apologised for making him too tired. It reminded Victor, and he wondered how the boss was going. But John was deep in conversation with one of Paul's employees, sitting on the back of the Pickering's horsebox, and casually swinging his feet, not having noticed that he was sitting in some not quite dry horse dung. Sometimes, his poor sight got him into trouble.

A successful day, and when Victor was approached by the owner of the palomino, who wanted to buy Storm, Victor found it hard to hide his satisfaction. He had to refer the man to the Bartons, unfortunately, as he didn't have the right to reject the offer himself, but took a considerable pleasure in saying that the sweet little yellow horse had done quite nicely in the showing...

Paul went home with two horses instead of four, a Championship ribbon, as well as a Cup, several other awards, and appointments with two more prospective purchasers. It had been a good day, and he checked the dates of future district shows. He hadn't missed the enjoyment of the boys, or of the boss, either. And he grinned as he remembered having to take the boss out of sight before using his wand to clean his seat.

***chapter end***